Home Would Be Wherever the Hell Your Heart Is
by Iceytaste
Summary: To escape his alcoholic father's antics, Fang moves for the summer to stay with his divorced mother and sister. He finds out it's more home than his real home ever was... especially when a local girl named Max gets involved. What happens when it's time for Fang to leave at the end of summer? "Fang moves" story - doesn't bite, only licks.
1. Idea

**Because I am a crazy person with absolutely no inspiration, I'm going to try and use an overused topic with Fang's dad as a drunkard just because. The story is AU and fished out of the dangerous depths of my mind :U Don't blame me for not planning this story at all but at least it's FUN so hop on, people. Choo choo! **

The bottle fell from his hand and impacted with the floor, spraying a hundred tiny pieces of glass with a sharp clatter. I knew I was in trouble.

"Get out." His voice was dangerously low, and I instinctively took a step torward the open door. He was acting like a crazed dog; and probably would react like one too, meaning no sudden movements. But then again, I was his son. Surely he wouldn't -

"I SAID, GET OUT!" he shrieked, grabbing another bottle and hurling it torward me. I ducked just in time, heart pounding. I grabbed ahold of the wall to regain my balance and swung myself out of the doorway and into the cool night.

Our little neighborhood was so packed together, no man could really tell his land property apart from his neighbors. Every house was dark; asleep, except the one I had just exited. No surprise there, really, it was nearly four a.m. With a look over my shoulder, I noticed that a few lights were coming on due to the commotion my idiot father had just caused. I'd been kicked out of the house four times already (with each ban lasting at least a few days but getting longer and longer), and summer had only just begun.

It seemed as soon as my parents divorced, he'd taken alcohol as his new wife. I didn't like it at all, of course, and neither did the neighbors. It wouldn't be much of a shock if the police showed up one night.

With my hands in my pockets, I walked to the only place that would take me in.

ooo

"Meow."

Silence.

"Meow, you idiot, meow!" I half growled, half whispered into the cool air. What was I doing here, fifteen feet high on a delicate branch that could break any second and send me tumbling to the ground headfirst?

Iggy must be deaf instead of blind.

"Fang?" came the slow, groggy reply out the window.

"Who else climbs up the tree next to your bedroom meowing? Crap, man, I almost gave the dirt a nosedive." I slid in through the narrow window, clenching my teeth as the low screen scraped my back.

"Not cool," Iggy muttered. "We need a new signal anyway. Meow's so last year."

"Remind me _who _exactly came up with that," I retorted with a glare.

Iggy held up his hands. "Hey, remember who's offering you a first-class" - at this, both of us gazed incredulously at the mess that had been building up for the past seventeen years - "room to sit your lazy ass in every other night."

"_Lazy_?"

"Lazy," Iggy confirmed.

"Remind me _who _exactly has the abs around here."

"...Me," Iggy argued feebly, knowing he'd lost.

"Try again," I taunted, enjoying this.

"Iggy?" A knock sounded at the door, and with an alarmed glance at the blond kid, I dove under his bed.

Side effects from that include:

a) a back injury from it being too low

b) a leg injury for it being too short

c) brain scarring from the mysterious things down there

"It's just Gasman," Iggy explained, crouching next to me with his tone full of amusement. "It's cool, Fang."

"Gazzy." I'm way too paranoid. Who did I think would be knocking on the door? A pearly pink eraser, out for blood? It felt wrong, being at the Nickelson house in the wee hours of the morning. I crawled out of the cramped area with a flush. "Hey, man."

Gazzy's eyes were wide. "I didn't know you were here, Fang. And, um..." He shifted to look at something behind me. "Can I have that teddy bear back?"

I blinked at him, confused, until Iggy motioned to the fluff that was stuck to my pants. My eyes widened.

I tore the stuffed bear off my rear with difficulty - it seemed it had stuck to the seat of my pants with some mystery gum. Reminder: vaccuum Iggy's room tomorrow, as well as his head.

"What are you even doing up, big guy?" Iggy frowned.

"Angel woke up," Gazzy explained. "She wanted Celeste." He rolled his eyes, took the bear back from me, and walked back to his room.

"Angel's creepy," Iggy said once he'd left. "Somehow, she always gets people to do whatever she wants." We both shivered. I'd always been a little cautious around the little she-devil with the big blue eyes.

Iggy picked up a stray mini basketball, threw it in the air, and punted it at the lightswitch with amazing accuracy. Considering his lack of sight.

"Night, dude." He kicked over a sheet and a pillow. How long until I could sleep in my own bed this time?

"Night, Ig." How long until I could _go _home? I couldn't stay at Iggy's house every time my dad got pissed.

Suddenly, I had an idea.

I didn't sleep much that night.

**WHAT COULD FANG'S CREEPY LITTLE MIND COME UP WITH. Reviews are luff c:**


	2. Creeps Including Dylan

**So hello, and you're welcome for the odd little day-after update because I have a loopy schedule. I got a review saying to please not make Fang OOC or something, but honestly I can't promise because I have a weird brain and when I finished Nevermore with Fang ending off being all open, it rubbed off on my image of him. But I guess Fang being more open wouldn't be OOC then? I don't know, but I'll try my best. **

**Oh yeah, and I stole Dylan because I started loving him a year ago when all these people were making "Ways Dylan Should Die" fics and I found that amusing but disturbing and well now he's mine :U Right Dylan?**

**Dylan: I want Max though. ;n;**

**TOO BAD :3**

I woke up before Iggy, which wasn't hard considering he always is conked out until about 2 in the afternoon. Anyway, I did actually vaccuum his room (him asleep the whole time) and left a note explaining where I'd be. And that he owed me thirty bucks. Scratch that, he didn't owe me anything. I probably owed him since I'd taken quite a bit for the bus fare (taken, not _stole;_ I might repay him someday).

So called my mom and Nudge in Mesa, Arizona to give them a heads up and took the bus.

Honestly, I don't think you want me to bother with the details. You must be bored out of your mind already.

...In that case, I'll give you the close-up.

I waited at the bus stop for thirty minutes, anxiously checking my watch because there was a creepy old man next to me, gnawing on a cigar and grinning his crooked teeth at me like I was Elvis. I raised my eyebrows and edged a little to the left, where there was a plump lady with huge spectacles (I'm not kidding, the old-fashioned kinds - if they looked _remotely _like glasses, I would use modern wording).

I stepped behind them by a weird hipster guy with a baby but at least he had a baby so I knew he wasn't trying to rape me or something. Not that I couldn't defend myself.

To be honest, I'm kind of epic in being fit and ready to kick someone's ass. I don't really know why, but ever since I'd been old enough to go to school I've excelled in physical activity (gym class, for the nitwits).

So I waited by the hipster guy, and eventually we got to talking. His name was Kim - and not short for Kimberly, and he glared at me sideways when he introduced himself, as if I'd laugh that he had a girl (unisex?) name. I returned the sideways glare when I introduced myself as well.

"What kind of stupid parents would name their kid Fang?" he snorted, despite my death glare (and it works, trust me. This guy must be immune to the effects of glares by being around them so long).

"What kind of stupid parents would name their kid Kim?" I challenged back.

Believe it or not, the guy started _crying,_ took the baby, and walked away. I guess that was it for my protection.

I stood the next fifteen minutes eyeing the weird people, and eventually the first bus showed up. I paid and went to one of the last seats, sighing and turning on my iPod. I listened to heavy metal the whole way there, cursing my father and creepy old men and spectacles as well as the other peculiar people on the bus.

I got off a few stations later, boarding another bus. The cycle went on and I clutched a guide in my hand, following its instructions until I arrived at the last trip. I'd basically wasted my whole day, the sun was going down. Iggy and Gazzy had probably made a dozen bombs already, after I'd left. I grinned.

There were two seats left on that boarding, one next to a half-seen blond guy who was looking out the window, another by some kid pulling on her sister's hair.

I decided to go with Blondie. I liked my hair.

He turned to me after I plopped down, and I blinked in surprise. He was actually pretty good looking, with light blue eyes (turquoise? Can eyes really be turquoise?) and his blond hair was the right length, except for the locks that fell in his eyes.

"Dylan." He nodded.

"Fang."

After a few awkward minutes of silence (pssh, the bus was like a rock concert - what I mean is silence between us exclusively) he looked at me again. "Where are you heading, Fang?" At least he didn't make the mistake of asking me about my name.

"Mesa," I replied. "Arizona."

"Oh." His eyebrows shot up. "Really? What are you doing there?"

"Staying with my mom, my sister." I gave him a wry smile. "Dad kicked me out."

"I'm heading to Mesa too," he continued. "I live there."

"Funny," I said. "What were you doing here, then?"

He paused. "Modeling."

I was about to give some smug remark about how I thought modeling was for women, when I stopped. Because he pretty much fit the job.

"Cool."

"You staying for a while?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "A while's what I intend."

"Tell your pop?" He cracked his knuckles.

"Nope." I shrugged. "He'll figure it out soon enough, though."

"Mmm." The intercom sounded and a few minutes later the bus screeched to a halt. Dylan stood and walked up to the aisle. He paused and looked behind at me. "One more thing, Fang."

"Huh?"

"Keep away from Ride." He departed the bus, and when I got off there was no sign of him.

**OOH I wonder who Ride is. **

**Dylan: Don't give him any ideas Icey please :'c Fang gets to have her irl, shouldn't I deserve to...**

**Oh, shush. You can have ice cream.**


	3. Meet the Family

**Thank you for all of these reviews! It's really encouraging me to write more.**

**Also, as of right now I'm going to refer to Fang's mom; Anne Walker from the books because it goes along with the plot easily - Dr. Walker. Just so no one's confused. Every once in a while, though, I might throw in a "Anne" or "Mom" because it feels odd to type. Right, Dylan?**

**Dylan: So when's Max coming in the story?**

**Eventually. You'll have to wait.**

**Dylan: This is so boring. I hate hearing about Fang's life.**

**By the way, Dyl, (and this has abolutely nothing to do with Fang and yourself), but I kind of ship a ..._certain yaoi pairing..._**

**Dylan: God help us.**

What a creep. At first we're fine, just talking and being bros, then he's talking about a ride? What freaking ride? His car? Why would he think I'd try to steal his car, or even know which car was his in the first place?

People.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder, shaking my head, and walked a few blocks down from the stop, then turned on a busy street. It webbed into a handful of smaller, homey roads, and I turned onto one of them labeled Ridgedale Drive.

Seeing the house just up a small hill, I couldn't help but get excited. When was the last time I'd yelled at my sister for decorating my PS3 with fashion stickers? When was the last time I'd watched Criminal Minds with my mom? I broke into a run, and all of a sudden I saw a figure running torward me just as fast as I was running torward her.

Nudge.

Now, before you get all disappointed and say "tut, tut, this kid's too emotional to be a man" or something along those lines...

a) I did not cry. I was running torward my sister who was on a hill running torward me, silhouetted in the sunset which would be a cliche moment except the fact that we were not lovers starring in a Nicholas Sparks love film. Or Shakespeare, whatever he wrote about.

b) Wait a second, I take that back. Didn't Shakespeare write Romeo and Juliet?

c) Or was that also Nicholas Sparks?

_Besides_ that, within a few seconds Nudge and I had reached each other and she leaped, falling into my chest (and I did not fall because I am a man with very manly abs and am too strong to be pushed down by my little sister, even if she had a jumping start what were you thinking pshh).

"Fang!" she screeched. "I can't believe you came... I wasn't lonely or anything, but a few days ago I was just sitting in my room, texting only like ten people but I was missing you because I designed this really cool tux and I needed a guy to try it on!"

"What, don't you have a boyfriend?" I teased, raising my eyebrows.

Nudge gave me a searing look. "Look here, mister -"

"Fang," Dr. Walker cried (aka my mom, for the dingbats who haven't figured it out), giving me a bear hug despite her petite figure.

"Mom," I mumbled against her face, which was plastered against mine.

She pulled away. "By the way, how's your father?" she asked with a concerned look.

"Uhh, drunk." I gave her a small smile. "I figured it'd be best that I leave him alone for a while before I end up in the hospital."

My mom nodded, eyes wide. Her golden hair lit up with the last rays of sun. Nudge and I took after our dad, if no one guessed already. He had a dark tint to his skin and bold black hair.

"Let's head home," Nudge suggested, already whipping out her iPhone and typing crazily on it. I couldn't get that any less, since the touch keyboard is such a bitch to deal with. I'd gotten an iPhone once before, but once I tried to type something in I took it right back and exchanged it for a Blackberry.

A black Blackberry.

Heh.

"Good idea, Nudge," Dr. Walker smiled. "Fang, we were just about to have dinner. Care to join us, your Highness?"

"Bond," I corrected in a fake accent. "James Bond. Lead the way."

**That's it for now, I guess. But this is the morning after the night that I last updated, so no complaining :u You'll have to excuse me, but I've got to get back to knitting hats now.**

**Dylan: Why, I didn't know you were an old la -**

**SHUT YOUR YAPPING HOLE, PEASANT! :U**


	4. Spaghetti

**So Dylan, one of our reviewers asked a very clever question. Since she carries your name, why don't you give her an answer?**

**Dylan: My pleasure. Mrs. Dylan because SpellCheck disables Icey from copypasta'ing your whole name**:** Fang didn't leave to Mesa the first few times his dad kicked him out because he's stupid.**

**That's enough. Fang didn't leave because it's a _long_ way off from where he lives (as the trip from New Mexico to Arizona and the many buses took a whole day) and it was a pretty big decision to make, as well as the fact that he didn't think that his father's drinking habit would last, only to be a temporary kind of thing to get over his sadness. He figured that he'd just crash at Iggy's house the few times that he'd kicked him out, but since it turned out to be continuous and he didn't want to intrude the Nickelson household every few days, he decided to stay in Arizona with the rest of his split family. :3 Si, Dylan?**

**Dylan: Huh. I still think he's stupid.**

As it turned out, the house hadn't changed much at all since I'd last been there. It was very organized as the product of the girls' side of the family (you don't want to hear about my house) and the floors were neatly vaccuumed. The only out-of-place item was the dining table, which was messy with Nudge's fashion magazines and a few socks she was rhinestonizing (wtf), but Mom seemed to be taking care of that issue right away.

"Fang," Nudge squealed, taking my arm with an iron grip I didn't know she had, "let me show you the guest room! Trust me, you're gonna love it. Totally." I let her lead me up the stairs and into -

Wonderful. Wonderful with a dash of _plain_.

The room was light tan and the only items in it besides the bed were a bed stand, a lamp, and a mirror. All four items took up about 3/10 of the space, since the room was, in fact, pretty huge.

Luckily, I'd happened to have the sense to bring along some of the things from my own room. And since I'd been planning to stay the whole summer (the rest of June, July, and August), I'd most likely find a job at Ben and Jerry's or something and scare the hell out of little kids. I mean, earn some cash to fill up some goth stuff in my room.

"Oh." Nudge blinked. "I thought I'd just - Oh! There are two guest rooms, and when I'd heard you were coming I..."

I pretty much droned the rest of her sentence out, as well as the fair paragraphs that followed. So when she led me down the hall to another room, and opened the door, I dropped everything I was holding (my backpack).

Luckily, she'd steered clear of rhinestones, but it was pretty sick. The walls were painted raven-black, the bed was white like the other guest room except black pillows were placed on it, and she'd gotten me a pretty nice white rug as well as a white desk with a modern red chair.

My family must be rich. I mean, I was staying for two and a half months, and here she goes and puts together some room homeless people would cry for. Just... what. I didn't want to know what Nudge's room looked like; I'd probably have a seizure.

And on the even brighter side, I didn't need to work at Ben and Jerry's anymore. Even though I was looking forward to terrorizing some little kids.

But it was nice. And my mouth must have been hanging open, because Nudge's beam was as radiant as the sun and I almost

a) melted

b) sparkled

c) turned to wax

according to all these different theories authors are coming up with on what happens to vampires when they're exposed to sunlight.

If I were an author (and I'm not), I'd come up with something much more epic for vampires to do instead of sparkling or having their abs glow or whatever.

They could, like, get transported to Hogwarts.

Now that would be pretty awesome because Dumbledore would zap them to China or something. Or is Dumbledore dead? I'm not sure.

Nudge reached up and closed my mouth (which was... apparently still open) and flushed modestly. "So..."

"Dinner, kids!" Anne's voice ran up the stairs.

"Coming, Mom!" Nudge called, then huffed. "And we're not kids anymore!"

"That's right, you're still my niños and niñas!" she shot back.

"You're not Spanish!" I chuckled, and we hurried downstairs.

Once we'd been seated, Dr. Walker headed in and placed a plate of glopped, gooey spaghetti on the now-clean table. Even though my mom's a pro veterinarian, she still sucks at cooking. Even instant spaghetti. **(A/N: Remind you of someone?)**

Apparently Nudge also noticed that the table was clean, and she gasped and literally flailed her arms, which until now I thought was an expression. "Where are my Marc Jacobs socks?! I was gluing emeralds to them and leaving them out to dry, Mom! I swear, if _one _jewel is out of place I will cry the Atlantic Ocean! Emerald socks are so in style right now..."

Well.

a) Excuse me if I thought they were rhinestones.

b) Marc Jacobs designs socks?!

c) Someone TELL ME why in the hell are socks of any kind in "style."

...

The spaghetti was good, though.

**Yep, I've had this chapter done for a while. Anyway, I just would like to say that all follows, favorites, and reviews are appreciated (though they do not fancy my e-mail because as soon as I signed up for this stupid website it's sending me all this junk mail and crap as well as fanfiction though I don't consider that crap :3)!**

**Also there is a new Taylor Swift song that's called something along the lines of We Are Never Getting Back Together or something. Which is hilarious because I just listened this whole day to it and I can't be certain of the title and it's a pretty long title but so is the title of this fic lol, but I refer to it as Home. So.**

**ALLELUIA AND AMEN AND LOVE CHILDREN.**


	5. LOVELY Neighbors

**To avoid confusion, Fang is 17 and Nudge is 16. Also, I spent a lot of time writing this chapter... when I hit the save button, everything was lost. For some crazy, annoying reason, this always happens to me. **

**Also, last night I saw the Dark Knight Rises (finally) and just just just Anne Hathaway. She's been my favorite actress since Ella Enchanted came out in 2004. And ROBIN omg I just want to hug him okay. Well, the other day I also saw the Bourne Legacy, which has Rachel Weisz in it who is also one of my favorite actresses, and Spiderman and the Avengers earlier in the summer, and just whoop for these action movies ilovethem.**

**Dylan: Old lady.**

**YOU COME HERE YOU LITTLE TWERP.**

I was on a cloud, floating in the sky, relaxing and feeling nothing at all. My soul was airy, my heart's beats were in rhythm. In other words, I was almost in heaven.

I would have loved to slept in.

"FANG!" Nudge burst into the guest room (but since I've taken over it's mine now... right?) and set a suit on my legs. "Let's go. We have to meet the neighbors, alright? And you need to dress up, chop-chop. There are waffles for you downstairs."

"Ugh... Mom made waffles? How burnt are they?" I wondered, still half asleep.

Nudge put her hands on her hips. "Mom didn't make waffles. _I _made waffles."

I opened one eye. "You made waffles? Why?"

"Because Mom's not up yet, silly!" Nudge laughed like I was the idiot.

Before I go any further, let's get one thing straight. My mother goes to work at 7:00 a.m. She wakes up at 6:20 to get ready. Meaning, it was summer and my sister woke me up before 6:20 a.m.

FML.

"Hey, Nudge," I said lightly. "Sure, I'll go greet the neighbors with you. One thing, though, last night after dinner I was watching a special on TV and I heard that Ralph Lauren was going to some Art Festival near here. He's going to judge this fashion contest, and the winner gets to have lunch with him. It's downtown, on that street by Main, you know...?"

Within seconds she was gone, and I happily snoozed once more.

ooo

I awoke to the sound of the door opening. From the height of the sun in the sky, it was probably about noon. Which meant that Mom was at work. Which meant that the only option was to be one angry fashionista.

Did I mention that downtown was an hour and a half away from here?

Crap, is right. And just because I was feeling super bad for blowing her off like that - I slid out of bed, grabbed the ridiculous suit from the bed, and changed. I brushed my teeth, then realized that Nudge wasn't upstairs, nor was she coming up the stairs. Nor was she yelling at me.

Curious, I stepped carefully down the stairs (years of being with Iggy and Gazzy making me extra cautious) and peeked at her from above the railing. She was sitting in one of the chairs in the kitchen, eyes glazed over and sitting inhumanely still.

Excuse me for paranoia, but I thought at first that she was either dead (but no, I saw her breathing), or a slimy and slug-like parasite called a Yeerk had climbed into her ear, wrapped around her brain, and taking her hostage inside her own body.

But that's stupid. Right?

"Hey, Nudge?"

No answer.

"Um, I tried on the suit you made me, and..."

"Oh, that's great." I exhaled in relief- so she _wasn't _posessed. "Thank you so much, Fang." She stood and walked over to me, then tried to give me a hug but fell backward. She regained her balance quickly.

"Are you okay?" This was really starting to freak me out. Was I in a dream?

"Actually, I'm more than okay." In a second, she'd lost her dreariness and was back to the talkative little sister I knew. "So I drove down to Main Street and who do I find? Well, not Ralph Lauren - mind you, but _Giovanni Armani_!" She gasped and a huge smile overcame her face. "And Fang - he asked me who designed the dress I'm wearing and I was just like, 'Oh, um, I did...' all modestly and he says, 'You have talent, kid'!"

_What_? I was more than just a little shocked. Here I was, sending her off on some wild goose chase, and she comes back and says she met _Armani_?

"You've got to be kidding me." She had to be messing around. What kind of coincidence is that?

"Nope," she grinned, popping the 'p' pridefully.

Well, at least she wasn't stabbing me with chopsticks.

I changed before she could process that I was ever even wearing the suit.

ooo

Later that day, I plopped down on the couch with the TV remote in my hand. I had full intentions of watching the crime show marathon that night. I was about to press the power button, when all of the sudden the remote..._ disappeared_ out of my hand.

Nudge grinned at me, wagging her finger. "Did you forget? We're going to go next door!"

Lovely.

"Fine, Nudge," I sighed, beat. "But when we get back I'm watching my shows, alright?"

"Deal." Nudge beamed, threw me a hoodie (thank God she didn't try to force me into that itchy suit again), and we stepped outside. Once we'd walked the short way to the next door, Nudge rang the doorbell.

"Hello?" A teenage girl looking to be around Nudge and my age opened the door. "Oh, hey, Nudge!"

Nudge giggled. "Hi! You'll never believe who I ran into today - Giovanni _Armani!_"

"_Who_?" the girl gushed, for dramatic effect.

"Giovanni Armani!" Nudge repeated, eyes shining.

"_The _Giovanni Armani?" the girl screeched.

"_The _Giovanni Armani!" Nudge confirmed, and pretty soon both were shrieking and dancing around like little girls.

I didn't know that there was more than one Giovanni Armani, so the fifty confirmations in this conversation was kind of unnecessary. And at this point, I was feeling pretty out of place - so I gave a little cough.

"Oh, yeah," Nudge added. "This is Fang, my brother. Fang, this is Lissa."

She had red hair, which was... nice.

At the mention of my name, Lissa suddenly seemed to notice I was there and I was awkwardly aware of her eyes scanning ALL FREAKING OVER MY BODY do you know how uncomfortable I was. "Come on in," she murmured slowly.

Inside, two other teens were sitting down, fighting stupidly over a ten dollar bill. They didn't seem to notice we were there. After a few minutes of standing there, I spoke.

"That'll rip," I smirked, announcing my presence.

The guy stopped in the middle of his (yelling) sentence and looked up. I noticed he had curly brown hair and freckles, along with his two sisters, who were redheads. All three also had green eyes. "Oh, hey. I'm Sam."

"I'm Brigid," the dollar girl introduced herself, and smiled. "His older sister." She batted her eyelashes.

Introductions over, time to go back home... right?

No.

At that moment, the ten dollar bill floated to the ground, suddenly forgotten. Lissa, Brigid, Sam, and Nudge were going on and on and on. Every once in a while when the conversation drifted to me, I said a few words, but that was it. I was missing out on CSI, guys, don't expect me to be happy.

"Is there a bathroom?" I finally asked. I didn't really have to go, but anything to get me out of that awkward situation.

"I can show you," Lissa said quickly, and flashed a smile at me.

I really don't know... was I missing something?

I followed her down the hall and through a bunch of the house too. Surely the bathroom wasn't_ that_ far away? What was she doing? Was she leading me somewhere? Just as I was about to ask her, she crashed into me and started kissing me.

I was pushed against the wall (and I must say, I am _claustrophobic_), and she was literally slobbering all over my lips, her tongue in my mouth, her body pressed against mine. I froze at first, then stared at her emerald eyes. They were really pretty, what I didn't notice before... so sharp... her leg slid up my body wait what.

OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE DOING.

In a frenzied panic, I threw her off of me perhaps too roughly and miraculously found my way into the kitchen. Nudge was still chattering away with Brigid and Sam, but she raised her eyebrows at what took me so long, and the absence of Lissa.

_We have to go,_ I mouthed, and she nodded in confusion.

Her hand slid down to her pocket and she pulled out her iPhone. "Hey, guys? My mom just texted and she said dinners burning on the stove - gotta run." She grabbed my hand and we raced back to the house.

I didn't stop running until I reached my room, and I slammed the door shut. I leaned against it, sweat beading on my forehead and thoughts streaking through my head at speeds I'd never imagined.

**Well, now that I have all the introductions out of the way (and did anyone catch the Animorphs reference :D), I can positively say that Max is going to be in the next chapter. So stop bugging me Dylan :U**

**Dylan: Well, it took you long enough. **

**But I've been updating _everyday _for the last _five days!_ I'm exhausted. :c**

**Dylan: Fine. I'll let you off this time, but if you make another story I am going to HAUNT YOU. **

**Great. 6_9**


	6. Max

**Hello, everyone. I have run out of things to say.**

**Dylan: Which is a miracle. She's like Nudge, she never stops talking and talking and talking and when she wants to say something simple she stretches it to an hour minimum.**

**Hey... that's enough. I don't really, do I? 3:**

**Dylan: Old lady. :3**

The next day I woke up later than usual, in an odd position. I'd fallen asleep against the door without eating dinner (record for me), and still in my clothes. Feeling a little bit disgusted with myself, I stripped and showered. **(A/N: No, you weirdos, I will not describe that for you.)**

When I was done, I changed into a brand new black shirt and jeans - surprise, surprise - and headed downstairs. Mom had already left for work and Nudge wasn't around, so I figured I'd wouldn't have waffles that day, and right I was. There was no milk to make cereal in the refrigerator either.

I sighed and threw on my windbreaker, heading outside in the fresh morning air. The grocery store was only around a mile away, so I walked.

The sun was high and warm in the sky, shining down greatly. It reflected off the passing cars, blinding my eyes, but between the traffic I caught a glimpse of midnight feathers. A crow?

Blinking, I ran quickly across the street, somehow weaving between cars, and found the bird. Not a crow, a raven. It had its foot stuck in a soda can, and I coaxed it into my hands, wrapping them gently around him and then tugging a little on the can. It squawked, panicked, and I decided to make do with it and jerked it off and hard and efficiently as possible. It flew away, still squawking.

I returned back on the path to the store and as I arrived, noticed an alley between PathMark and some shoe shop. A bunch of street thugs were talking as loudly as they dared, waving their hands and closing in on their target. I huffed. It must be Fang to the Rescue Day.

I edged around, trying to glimpse who they were cornering, and finally I obtained a decent view - a girl. She was definitely a teenager, maybe around my age, with dirty blond hair. That was all I could catch. The thugs rearranged their position and I saw that she was leaning against the wall, looking completely uninterested and not panicked at all.

You have _got _to be kidding me.

Was this girl serious?

"Hey!" I snarled. "What're you idiots doing?" They turned around, and half of them came at me directly.

One tried to land a punch in my face, but I blocked the blow with my wrist and twisted his arm around: he howled in pain and with a kick to his chest he stumbled away. One down. Another tried to stomp on my foot, but I pulled it away and snapped it back up at his nose. Blood immediately started to flow. He held his nose and fled. Two. Another guy chomped directly on my shoulder from behind and I winced - he was starting to draw blood. I shook him around, but his mouth didn't budge. Finally I reached behind myself and yanked on his hair as hard as I could. Pretty soon it was three down, three to -

Huh? The rest were gone...

The girl was glaring at me with cold murder in her eyes. "They were all _mine_, you asshole!" she growled, faking a kick from the right. I ducked, but she ended up hitting me with a blow on my head, and it started to throb before long. "I had it all under _control_!"

I was starting to get seriously angry. "Then why weren't you _doing _anything about it?" I snapped in return, kneeing her in the chest. She retaliated with a side swipe to distract, and then headbutted me in my abdomen, which kind of sucked for her because my chest is pretty damn hard.

She hissed and kicked my shins, then threw her legs under me and I tripped, falling forward. I recovered quickly and at that moment I grabbed her arm, twisting it around her back. She fell limp for a second and I released my grip on her just a tiny bit, but she used that to her advantage anyway and reversed the position so she had my arms pinned behind my back. Then she tripped me again and stamped her foot down where the sun doesn't shine.

I clenched my teeth in pain and fury and laid on the concrete, rocking backward and using my momentum to slam my feet forward onto her knees. She howled, and I used that moment to get back up and fist her chin. She clipped my arm and took ahold of my ear, bringing her arm back and forth, and I grabbed her wrist and yanked it forward. She fell into my chest, which was not intended. "What's your name, anyway?" I asked quietly, and for a second she looked up at me. Her eyes were brown.

"Max."

"Fang." Max was an odd name for a girl, but so was Fang. Maybe her real name was -

"And _not short for Maxine_," she added as if she could read my thoughts, and suddenly we were fighting again, dodging blows and landing them. She swung her arm back as if to strike, then added - "Maximum" - and punched me in the eye. I returned the punch at her own eye and we stumbled around, unable to see for a few moments.

"Maximum Rollercoaster," I teased, pounding her thigh with my ankle.

She kicked high, reaching my forehead. "Close enough."

"What's that supposed -"

"Gotcha!" she interrupted, pinning me down, because I had stupidly come off guard to ask a question.

I smirked and fell limp, using her own move, and threw her off, and the fight started all over again.

We wrestled for hours and hours, neither outmatching strengths. We were both, in an odd way, equal.

Finally, as the sun started to drop, we both fell to the ground, throwing our heads back and just _laughing _in such a carefree way - panting and gasping and sweating. But so insanely _happy _nonetheless. It was like we were talking and having a nice conversation for the past five hours, not trying to strangle each other.

We laid there, laughing and laughing and sprawled out in the dirty alley, backs against the wall. We stayed like that until the sun set.

I never got that milk, either.

**I would absolutely die if I didn't eat breakfast. Or lunch. Or fought for five hours. But you know, Fang and Max are just special freaks. I guess.**


	7. Fang the Vet

**I'm really stupid, forgive me. **

**Dylan: You suck. :D**

**Lolyeah thanks kiddo. Sorry for the overdue and short update, but with school starting and tests and things, I've been really busy. You probably have been too, but it's into the school year now so I'm available now. So! Another chapter. With Max!**

The next day, I was eating (burned, of course) waffles at the dining table when, predictably, Mom asked me to fill in at her office because she was helping an injured dog or something. "Just be natural," she tried to convince me. "Just answer calls and write the name and number in the book. They're just appointments, it's not rocket science."

At her last job, when my parents weren't divorced, she used to pull the same crap on me all the time. And, yes, it is rocket science when you recieve two calls every thirty seconds.

Anyway, though, I was enjoying my waffles when I had to drive to her office, walk awkwardly past the white jacketed folks, and writing down info while trying to explain to an Indian woman why the number wasn't Anne Martinez but her son. Named Fang.

An example provided:

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Dr. Walker?"

"No, I'm sorry, this is Fang -"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Fang Walker, I'm her son."

"Do you expect me to believe Dr. Walker would name her child 'Fang'?"

"It's a nickname."

"Oh, okay. Please tell Anne to call me when she returns, alright? Tell her it was 'Tooth.'"

And then hang up.

Basically. The phone started to ring again. I reached for it, annoyed.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'd like to schedule an appointment for Tuesday - hey, wait, you're not Dr. Walker."

"I'm Nicholas." I didn't need another argument about my nickname. "I'll be filling in for her today."

"Oh, that's nice," the woman murmured distractedly. "Tuesday at 4:00. Vaccinal shots for Fluffy."

"...Okay." _Fluffy?_

"Thanks. Bye."

"Bye."

Oddly enough, after that I barely recieved any calls at all. I decided to explore Anne's office. I spun the spin chair, amusing myself. I fiddled with a snowglobe I found on her desk. I found a keychain of my second-grade school picture. I was sifting through the drawers when the door opened.

"Anne - oh, hello! You must be Fang!"

"Hi." A hispanic lady was standing at the door, beaming at me.

"I'm Valencia, your mother's good friend. I was just about to ask her about dinner at my place, but I didn't realize today's when she was helping the Malamute." She shrugged helplessly. "Would you like to come instead?"

Predatory avoidance rule 1#: Never get into a stranger's car or house without parental approval.

Oh well, I'm a gangster.

"Sure."

"Man of many words, huh?" she inquired with a wry smile.

"You got it." I was starting to like the lady.

"Well, you're shift is over," she continued. "I can give you a ride, or you can drive and follow if that's more convenient."

"I can drive," I replied. "Thanks, though."

She nodded and exited the building.

I stood, grabbed the keychain, and went outside myself. I guess time had just flown by, with all the business.

I almost whistled aloud when I saw her Audi, with painted white flames on the side. I got into Mom's spare and followed her to a closed-off street, and a half brick/half yellow house.

"I have two daughters," she chattered as we walked inside. "Ella and - oh, look, here's Max."

It turns out that, sitting on the steps parallel to the entrance, was Max. Meaning the Max from yesterday.

!

Mindblown.

We both must have had shocked faces, because the hispanic girl about Nudge's age apparently connected the dots and stared at me thoughtfully. "Do you know each other?"

"No!" I said, too quickly.

**WAY TO BE OBVIOUS FANG.**

**Dylan: Fang, you're an idiot. I'm not obvious at all, especially with Max involved. **

**Fang, Elmo, Fluttershy, & me: 'kaaaaay then.**


	8. Pie

**HEY PEOPLE amg let me take three seconds of your time and tell you that Wreck-It Ralph is the most adorable thing in the world. **

The hispanic girl - Ella - gave me a doubtful stare, but didn't say anything more.

Dr. Martinez grinned optimistically and rubbed her hands together. "I'll go cook up some spaghetti," she decided. "Max, want to make dessert?"

"I'd be happy to," Max agreed, recovering from shock and glad to leave me with her sister.

"_No_!" Ella protested with a shriek, shaking her head wildly. "Mom, I'll do it."

It made me feel wonderful that two people of the opposite gender were fighting as to who _didn't _have to stay in the same room as me.

Dr. Martinez put a hand on her hip. "Ella, she can just slice some pie."

"She'll ruin it!" Ella persisted.

"How can someone ruin pie?" I put in, raising my eyebrows. I was beginning to like this family.

"I don't know," Ella replied, "but Max will do it anyway."

"Oh, shush," Max dismissed. "I'm fine with cutting a little pie, drama queen. I don't have to microwave it, anyway."

"Bake." Dr. Martinez raised her eyebrow.

At this point I was starting to get a little suspicious, but before I could say anything Max huffed and strided into the kitchen.

As soon as she had left the room, Ella glided her chair (I would say "scoot," but her chair literally slid) in front of me. "You know each other?" she asked immediately in a serious, all-business tone.

I gave her a _that's ridiculous! _look and hopefully believably, answered, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Ella's stare wavered, but she kept her face an inch away from me and her eyes locked on mine.

"Fang, Ella," Dr. Martinez interrupted, walking into the dining room, "meat sauce or tomat - oh. Sorry if I'm interrupting your moment." I snapped my head up, shocked. Ella, confused, had the same reaction. Finally she (hesitantly) laughed as we both realized it was a twisted, "parent humor" sort of joke.

_"Mom." _ She shook her head. "Oh, nevermind. Meat sauce."

Dr. Martinez looked expectantly at me. "Meat sauce," I agreed. She turned back into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with four plates of spaghetti, two balanced expertly in each hand.

"How -"

"Spanish thing." She winked.

I thought spaghetti was Italian but alright.

Dr. Martinez placed the four plates around the table and turned into the kitchen again, where I could hear frustrated grumbling. "Max, are you done?"

"...almost," she mumbled.

"You're dinners waiting out here."

"I'll be right there."

"Usually you're really optimistic about dinner," Ella called.

"Shut up."

After a pause, Dr. Martinez rolled her eyes. "Alrighty then," she said. "Dig in, kids. I'll be right back."

I looked up from my plate, but kept eating. I was on my third plateful already (I like to eat).

"_MAX_!" sounded the horrified shriek. "Max, what are you doing?"

Ella slid away from the table. "Better check it out," she mutttered, and we walked into the kitchen.

My eyebrows shot up and Ella gasped in surprise. It seemed as though someone had put pie into a blender and strewn it all over the kitchen. Pie was dripping from the faucet, on the walls, on the floor. And Max was sitting down smack in the middle of it, stuffing her face.

"Maximum Ride," Dr. Martinez said in a deadly tone.

**Agh, I haven't had internet for more than a week and I am shriveling up. Hurricane Sandy really hit my area, and we're super lucky to not have any damage besides the power outages and tree branches. However, I waited six hours in a gas line which is bluh bluh. And no Halloween this year, which is a shame but I really don't need candy at the moment, lol. ANYWAY FORGIVE ME FOR THE TOTAL CLICHENESS THIS STORY HAS FALLEN INTO BUT HOPEFULLY IT'LL BE CURED OF THIS FATAL ILLNESS BEFORE THE STORY ENDS oops caps.**


	9. Kitchens and Numbers

**Hi guys! **

**So, you're all probably like "where'd this chick come from." I haven't updated since November, I'm sorry. D: I'll try to be more active now. In my defense, I've been busy the previous week because it was my birthdayyyy (which doesn't account for the other 3-4 months but shut up). Glad to be continuing this though. ****One more thing: Fax is on the way.**

**Dylan: Major Fax? D:**

**Me: Yes, Dylan. Eventually.**

**Dylan: Please no lemons please please please. Unless I'm in it.**

**Me: With Fang?**

**Dylan: With _Max_.**

**Me: It was a joke.**

**Dylan: Doesn't have to be ;D**

* * *

So, three random things were speeding through my mind at that complete and utter weird-ass moment.

1. "Ride" _is _close to "rollercoaster." I'm a pretty talented guesser, thanks much.

2. This girl is in some SERIOUS SHIT, man. As Usher says, never mess with a Latin woman.

3. I never thought sexy could be defined by a girl pigging out on pie in the middle of the kitchen floor. I just proved myself wrong.

"Maximum," Dr. Martinez said with a lethal narrow of her eyes, "You are to CLEAN the kitchen in the next five minutes PRONTO or I will LITERALLY and PERSONALLY una patada en el culo poco blanco siento fuera de la atmósfera, donde se desintegrará!"

Lady must've thought I didn't speak Spanish, but hey, we've had classes since elementary. Anyway, I almost laughed out loud, which would have ruined her eviltastic moment. Sure enough Ella was snickering quietly. But Max wasn't, so apparently Dr. Martinez was serious.

Believe it or not, bitches.

"Mom," Ella complained, giving me a sideways glance. "Can we talk about this later?"

_Please_, I agreed silently, shifting awkwardly.

Dr. M ignored Ella and gave her eldest daughter a stone-hard death glare that would make anyone there piss themself. Then she strode out of the kitchen angrily.

Literally, her face transitioned in the .5 seconds it took to walk through the doorway.

Kitchen = Devilish

Dining Room = Normal

That pie must've really been something special.

"Is that the way you act when you have company?" she was muttering under her breath. "No, no, no lo es en absoluto. ¿Cómo vergonzoso!"

Ella followed, and I was left in the kitchen with Max, me raising my eyebrows. "Quite a mess you've got there," I commented, leaning my arm on the counter.

Max looked up with a glare mirroring her mother's.

"You don't look very Hispanic," I continued. "Take after your dad?"

"Don't talk about him," she muttered. "He's sick." She spat the word "sick" out, so it was pretty clear he wasn't in a hospital with cancer.

"Huh?" I asked slowly. (Maybe I was the _tiniest_ bit concerned. Very tiny. It helped that she was hot.)

Max rolled her eyes, tossing me a roll of paper towels. "I'll tell you if you help," she bribed.

"Blackmail. I don't like it."

"I believe," she replied, "you've used it many times on your sister."

I was a little shocked. Was this girl a stalker or something? How'd she know Nudge?

"Ella's best friends with Nudge," she explained, looking smug at my reaction. "Those three are inseparable."

"Three?" She only mentioned two.

"And Lissa." Max rolled her eyes, obviously distastefully, cocking a hip as she stopped cleaning for a second.

My eyes widened. A fraction. I'm an emotionless brick wall, if you haven't noticed. "Afraid I met her already."

Max grinned at me, cocking her head. "I feel for you."

We cleaned for another minute or so when I coughed meaningfully. "So what about your father?" I didn't mean to sound pushy, but I was pretty curious.

Max inhaled sharply, and literally at that moment the door swung open. I swore under my breath, we barely got to talk. "Clean?" Dr. M gritted through her (perfect) teeth.

"Kind of." Max grinned sheepishly.

Dr. M turned around and suddenly seemed to notice I was there. "Sorry about that, Fang. The girls aren't usually... like this." She gave an embarrassed laugh. "Are you okay driving home?"

"Yeah." I reached in my pocket and brought out my keys. "Thanks for dinner."

"You're welcome," she smiled warmly. I wasn't fooled. Just a few minutes before, I'd witnessed her wrath. Then she stared at me expectantly.

I grabbed my hoodie, stepped out the door, and jogged to my car. "Thanks for dinner," I called over my shoulder. _My family seems almost normal compared to theirs, _I thought, almost satisfied.

"Wait!"

Eyebrows raised, I did a 360. Ella came stumbling down the steps and toward me. "Wait, you'll need this."

I didn't forget anything. "What?"

"Phone number."

I stared at her, and her face turned beet red.

"Not mine! It's Max's."

"Oh."

Ella grinned and waved me off. "Don't forget to text her!"

_Oh, I won't._

* * *

**Awww, it looks like little Fangles has a crush.**


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